


small hands

by dlm



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, absolutely Disgusting Fluff, gratuitous fluff!!!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 04:00:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8782069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dlm/pseuds/dlm
Summary: (i do not know what it is about you that closesand opens;only something in me understandsthe voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)nobody,not even the rain, has such small hands   - e.e. cummings





	

**Author's Note:**

> i listened to keaton henson's 'kindly now' and this mess wrote itself

It's dark out.

If Changkyun closes his eyes hard enough and focuses, really _focuses_ hard enough, he can hear the sound of cars and life stirring outside of the window. Everyone’s sound asleep, and he’s only left with his half empty mug of cocoa in front of him. It’s settled comfortably on the coffee table-- _comfortable_ being a way to reason his way out of drinking a stale drink, anyway.

He shifts in his seat. His socked feet rub against the tiled floor.

If he closes his eyes, he can hear the sound of the clock above the kitchen stove tick as the seconds go by. He imagines people outside, living their lives at 1:21 a.m. and he wonders if mothers are asleep with their children, if their fathers are at home with them, if the people in their cars get home safely. He wonders about the people buying midnight snacks in convenience stores.

He’d left his phone back in their shared room, so the living room’s completely dark, which is how he manages to get surprised by a ray of light being shined over his face.

“What the fuck,” he says, squinting at its source.

“Hello,” Hoseok laughs at him. He thankfully turns his phone’s flashlight feature off, and he plops down ungracefully next to Changkyun on the sofa. It dips down to accommodate his weight. “Why are you awake?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” Changkyun says, yawning.

Hoseok rubs the back of his head with a scritching sound, sending his hair flying upwards. “Me neither.”

Changkyun grins. “I didn’t ask you.”

“Whatever,” Hoseok says, and in the darkness, Changkyun can hear him smiling.

Changkyun can barely make out Hoseok’s shadowy figure taking up the space next to him, but he watches him anyway, and he takes in Hoseok’s steady exhales. Hoseok pulls the sleeves of his hoodie so that they completely cover his hands, and he places his hands on his cheeks, sighing. He waves his hands about afterwards, and yawns, blinking blearily at the darkness. He fidgets for a bit, and Changkyun just watches him, watches the way he seems to shrink up to accommodate himself. “Do you want to watch TV?”

Changkyun shrugs; a non-committal gesture. Hoseok sticks his tongue out and lets out a triumphant _ha_ when he finds the remote, even going as far to hold it up in the air. He turns the TV on and lets a random channel play in the background.

Squinting at the coffee table illuminated by the television screen, Hoseok says, “Is that your drink?”

Changkyun nods. “It’s unfinished cocoa.”

“Can I have the rest of it?”

“Be my guest. It’s kind of gross, though.”

Hoseok ignores Changkyun anyway and downs the rest of the drink. He wipes away the chocolate mustache away from his lips on his hoodie sleeve, and Changkyun tuts half-heartedly.

Moments go by until Changkyun realises that Hoseok’s still squirming in his seat. “Are you cold?”

“A bit,” Hoseok murmurs. He leans into Changkyun and presses his cheek against Changkyun’s shoulder.

“Do you want me to get you a blanket?”

Hoseok nods, and Changkyun stands up. He quietly enters their room and pulls a duvet off of his own mattress, careful to not wake up the other members in their sleep. When he returns to the living room, Hoseok is already stretched out on the couch so that he occupies most of it.

“Where am I supposed to sit?” Changkyun laughs, and Hoseok smiles sleepily at him and pats the miniscule space next to him. “We won’t fit if you take up this much space.”

“What if--”

“No,” Changkyun yelps, and they end up wrestling on the couch half-heartedly between gasps of laughter.

They go on like this for a while, until Hoseok ends up with his head perched on Changkyun’s lap. Changkyun cards his hands through Hoseok’s hair--too dry, too brittle after endless bleaching--and the both of them watch the news with the volume on its lowest setting. Static buzzes in the background, and they breathe in and out; almost in sync.

The air breaks when Hoseok turns over so he noses Changkyun’s hipbone, and Changkyun freezes.

“Is this okay?” Hoseok mumbles, looking up so that he catches Changkyun’s eye.

Changkyun swallows. “What is?”

“This,” Hoseok says, voice low, and he reaches his hand up to touch Changkyun’s face. His thumb sweeps over Changkyun’s jaw.

Changkyun’s lips part; he feels thick with a curious feeling bubbling within him. Stealing a glance at Hoseok, he takes time noting him--all edged lines in the moonlight--and god, he must have been losing it, because he nods, and leans down and kisses Hoseok.

Hoseok’s lips are soft against Changkyun’s; worn down with worry after worry and Changkyun kisses him a little bit harder.

When they pull apart, Hoseok squirms in apparent delight. “What are you doing?”

“I’m making sure you’re real,” Changkyun says nonsensically, and Hoseok sits up straight so that he’s perched on Changkyun’s lap, now.

Hoseok slings an arm around Changkyun’s shoulder, while his other hand settles down by Changkyun’s hip, tracing it in small circles. “I’m real,” he says, softly, and he gently bumps his forehead against Changkyun’s and smiles.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> hmu on twit!!! [@plantgd](http://twitter.com/plantgd)


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